Falling
by fireun
Summary: KamuiXSubaru. yaoi and angst abound. a short introspection on the part of Subaru in regards to his realtionship with Kamui. Late series, spoiler reference or two. one shot. please review!


Disclaimer- I don't own X/1999 or any of the characters contained within.  
Warning- Here there be Yaoi and angst. do not read if these sorts of things are not what you enjoy

This was born out of watching the series, making some amv's, and realizing that while I love the Subaru and Kamui pairing, I cant see Subaru as handling it well...all things considered. The parallels between Subaru and Kamui in regards to all the shit that happens to them were just too blatant for me NOT to want to poke at them in an angsty fashion though. It just seems too ideal for it not to happen...

Please review!!!!!!!

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"..._I want to be completed  
__I want to disappear  
__I want to be uncovered  
__Take me down  
__Take me down  
__Let me drown_

_Somehow I need to love you  
__More than I need to breathe  
__I can feel you leaving the ground  
__I will follow down  
__You and I will drown..."  
__-"Deep as you go" –October Project_

__

I hear him breathing beside me, my presence and the darkness convincing him to lower his walls, allowing him to look his age, to be vulnerable. He knows I would never, could never, betray him, mock him. He curls close to me in sleep, and I acutely sympathize with his need for reassurance, his dazed sense of loneliness. I reach one finger to trace the bridge of his nose, caressing the wrinkles of nightmare that are beginning to form there, soothing him back into a more restful sleep. He pulls even closer to me in response, sighing gently, and I quiver slightly.

He holds me here with his cunningly revealed vulnerability and need- he had to know I couldn't help but respond.

He had to have known how his pain cried out to and harmonized with my own.

The evening breeze carries a hint of sakura blossoms into the room, causing me to shudder slightly. I am tied to this man, bound to his side by his sad eyes.

And all I want to do is quietly fade away, to find some measure of peace in a loss of awareness. I had tried so hard to fade quietly after Seishirou died with a smile in my arms, to become safe and hidden away in my own mind. But he had pulled me out with his agonized, pleading eyes.

This Kamui, to whom my life has been bound all along.

It is my duty to bide with him, even after I have lost everything. My fate. Damn fate and duty. Damn destiny, and especially damn empathy.

"Fuma..."

He whispers that mans name in his sleep, face and voice twisted in a desperate sort of bewilderment. After it all, after all the death, he wants to be at that mans side.

I know that feeling all too well.

I know it well enough to quell the bitter jealousy twisting like worms in my gut. I can listen to him cry out another's name as he lies sleeping in my arms for I am sure he must do the same for me.

Seishirou...

Kamui's hands tighten on me as he wakes up, presses his face against my chest, plants kisses, moves to nuzzle my neck and nip the sensitive places there. A hand brushes up my thigh, lighting nerves as it caresses my side, rising up to cup my face. I am older, but in this Kamui is more bold, much more demanding. In this I am shy, awkward as I have not been in years. In this Kamui is gloriously beautiful, hovering above me, pinning my shoulders to the bed, lips crushing against mine, demanding. He presses so tight against me I cannot tell where I end and Kamui begins.

It is an exorcism of the damned more than anything else. A fierce need to feel, to touch, to hear sounds of pleasure as opposed to those of battle. In this as well, I serve Kamui, as he clings to me, cries out, collapses against me in an exhausted sort of contentment. For a few minutes at least there is nothing else but the feel of flesh on flesh, hot breath, and whispered words. For me it is an anchor, a sensation in a vast expanse of numbness. For Kamui, I suspect, it is a measure of control he can extend over his life. This is his bed, his place, and I am his.

When it is over, blankets tangled and tossed aside, Kamui's head pillowed on my lean chest, I run fingers slowly through his silky hair, listening to heartbeat and breath attempt to steady. There is nothing awkward to our silence. It is merely the epilogue, a savoring of sensation and a pause before reality is forced to extend its control over us once more.

"Are you angry with me, Subaru?"

Every night he asks the same question. And every night I don't let myself pause before answering, "no, Kamui. I am not angry." This too is part of the ritual, as I cannot bear the thought of reality ruining even the security blanket of the night for this gentle tortured youth.


End file.
